The world is heavy
and so is my spirit.

I thought I made a mistake today when I again equated  my self worth to numerics.

However, my life is worth more than numbers on a scale.

I have spent years learning to love myself.
I have spent months teaching myself helpful and safe patterns that honor myself.
I have spent weeks unlearning all the negative things I have heard from society about what a body should look like.
I have spent days helping others do the same through talking, art, music, and drama.
I have spent hours exploring my body- my temple.
I have spent minuetes unconsciously making new positive associations.

And I will spend no more seconds hating numerics in relation to my body.

The growth I wish for you will burn strong-
just like your picture and the dried rosemary did tonight.

The words flutter out of your mouth and burn themselves into my back, scarring me forever with the feeling of kindness.

I want to write you messages
on small pieces of paper
and put them in the corners
of the advertisements on the A train
in the hopes that you will see them
and recognize my handwriting
and think of me.

The stretch marks on my thighs prove that I am a descendant of the mermaids and the gods.

They shine and appear light on my skin like how the sunlight dances on the top of the water.

They are signs that my body has endured and will continue to survive as the world moves on.

They weave across my skin like the beginning of a beautiful tapestry that will only become complete in time.

Learning to love myself again is hard, but my naked body is slowly becoming mine again.

The stretch marks are art on my skin, my own natural tattoos.

Let them show.